Date: Mon, 5 Dec 2022 17:39:30 +0000 (GMT)
From: blackscar01 <blackscar01@btinternet.com>
Subject: Operation Pied Piper - Part 135b

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                        *********************

Forts launched into a tirade, barely pausing for breath. I cringed as the
call seemed to be coming to an end, "Bishop, you misunderstand, I am not
asking you... You will reinstate Father Vladimir to his position in the
priesthood and as my spiritual advisor or else!... No, that's an end to
it... Okay if that's how you feel, I will be in London tomorrow and will
speak to you then and meet this Edik. Good night Bishop."

Forts slammed down the phone. Then began dialling again, "Dima, it's me, I
need you and Robert to accompany me to London tomorrow... Yes, yes... I
will explain in the morning."

Forts was furious, "Just who does that bloody bishop think he is... Well,
he is going to find out just who I am tomorrow!"

                       **********************

Operation Pied Piper – Part 135b -

Robert takes up the story

Dima was beside himself once he had found out why Forts wanted us to go to
London with him.

"Robert, No!" He sounded exasperated and shook his head, "He is a
Bishop... The head of the Russian Orthodox Church in England... Not
some... nobody."

"But Dima, you can't seriously believe what he tried to do, and what he has
done to Vlad is alright?"

Dima covered his ears, "Robert, no! I am not listening. He is a
Bishop... What he says goes."

"Well, in that case, you had better tell Forts you won't go with him. He
won't appreciate you siding with Navarofski against him when you are
there."

"Bishop Navarofski..." Dima growled, "Bishop Navarofski!"

*

I glanced up from the books I had brought with me. I knew little about the
Russian Orthodox Church and thought I had better do some research or I
would be of no use to Forts. He was staring out of the train window, lost
in his own thoughts. Tobias and Darius were chatting at the neighbouring
table. Dima had, in colloquial terms, 'thrown a sickie'.

Forts was, of course, both disappointed and worried for his friend, but
seemed to understand. Hopefully, he wouldn't find out the real reason for
Dima's absence. In Dima's place I had suggested to Forts, why not have
Count Samara go with him to see the Bishop. Forts had agreed, he needed to
speak to Samara, anyway.

At the last-minute Davy had said he would go, but Forts' plan had always
been that Davy would stay with the boys and give them plenty of tender
loving care. After all, both Draco and Aaran had just had the chop and, in
Forts words, need 'Mummy hugs.'

*

It was good to see Count Samara again. He met us at the station on the
concourse, while the Savoy Rolls Royce waited outside to whisk us all to
the hotel.

"Stepan!" Forts embraced him warmly, "So good to see you, my friend."

"Your Imperial Highness..."

Forts stopped him, smiling, "What have I told you about that?"

They both smiled. Forts reminding him he had met me and Darius, and then
introducing Tobias. Count Samara welcomed us all with a friendly
handshake. I was sure he winked at Darius, too.

Samara took Forts' arm. "Forts, I have arranged for your meeting with
Navarofski for after lunch, at two o'clock. I am told his Eminence has a
penchant for a glass of wine with his lunch. It could play to your
advantage." He gave a sly wink. Forts smiled.

We all went to the Savoy where we had a working lunch, Forts setting out
what he wanted to happen at the meeting.

Samara sat quietly listening. I could see he was also torn. These Russians
really took their religion seriously, or was I reading this totally wrong?

Samara leant forward and took Forts' hand. "Forts, the Bishop is not really
someone you want to upset..." He finally stammered. "Have you thought of
another approach?"

Forts looked up, "Such as?"

"Well, like most men of importance, the Bishop likes shiny things."

Forts laughed, throwing his head back, "You want me to bribe him?"

Samara smiled indulgently, "Bribe is such a pejorative word; Don't you
think?".

Forts turned to me, "I might if I knew what it meant!" He shook his
head. "Let us go and see what Navarofski has to say."

Samara stroked Forts' hand, "If you are against a... gift... I suggest we
arrive an hour early then..."

Forts looked at him questioningly, "Count, I don't know what you are up to,
but we will do as you suggest. Come, let us talk further, you have been
sending me some amazing things."

Forts and Count Samara retired to a corner of the room, talking in hushed
tones, until it was time to leave.

*

Forts had asked if he could borrow the hotel Rolls Royce for the
afternoon. How could anyone refuse that flash of a smile? The General
manager certainly couldn't.

We pulled up outside an imposing four story townhouse off Mayfair, at
exactly one o'clock.

"Blimey, is this where he lives?" Forts stared up at the magnificent
building.

Samara nodded, "Yes... Err, this is the Bishop's... Palace." He gave Forts
a wink.

*

We all got out of the vehicle, Forts was dressed in one of his dress
tunics, his chest sparkled with all of his awards. He stopped and turned to
Darius, "Now even you must think I will be safe enough in a Bishop's
Palace."

Darius screwed up his nose and begrudgingly nodded.

Forts patted his arm, "I will be fine. I want you both to wait in the car."

Tobias and Darius both nodded.

I went ahead and knocked announcing to the rather surprised and gorgeous
young male flunky who opened the door that His Imperial Highness the Grand
Duke, Prince Drageon Drageonivanov Romanov, Prince of the Blood Imperial,
Heir to the Russian Throne, was here to see the Bishop, first in Russian
and then in English. It was something the Count had suggested as we pulled
up.

The young man glanced at Forts. Then, as my words really registered,
flustered, and with wide eyes, he stood aside. Bowing, he invited us all
into the spacious entrance hall.

"This way please, Your Imperial Highness, gentlemen."

I glanced back at Darius and Tobias, noticing they didn't get back into the
vehicle until they saw the door closing behind us.

*

Forts was grinning, he nodded towards the flunky we were following and
winked at me, whispering, "He is a bit underdressed don't you think?"

Samara leant into Forts' ear and spoke just loud enough for me to hear,
"The Bishop, likes his servants dressed... shall we say... minimally... So,
I hear anyway."

Forts smiled and clapped Samara on the back.

"Does he now?... Robert, how do you think that would go down with Davy if I
suggested it at the Castle?"

I grinned, tilting my head, "Are you attached to your balls, Your
Highness?"

Fort's belly laughed.

The flunky stopped outside a set of large, imposing double doors. I noticed
Forts pull himself to his full height, his chest thrust out.

"One minute, please, Your Highness, err... Gentlemen." He looked rattled, a
bag of nerves in fact as he vanished through the door, closing it behind
him, effectively, closing it in our faces.

Forts glanced at Samara. Who gave a sly, knowing nod towards the door.

Forts smiled and reached for the door handle.

Stating loudly, "Oh, I don't think so!"

Forts strode forward, the rest of us hurrying behind him as he threw open
the doors and marched in.

"Bishop!..."

Navarofski's face spun towards us. He was in an open dressing gown, seated
on a broad couch, scantily clad young men on either side of him. The room
was illuminated by a sudden flash from behind me. I spun round, Samara was
holding a camera, smiling.

The Bishop leapt up, pulling at the sides of his dressing gown. He glared
at the flunky. "I told you not to admit him!"

The young male dropped to his knees, "I didn't your Eminence, I asked them
to wait."

Forts stood face on, "We seem to have caught you at an importune moment,
Bishop." Forts chuckled, he sounded like an arch villain in one of those
Hollywood films.

"Well, Count Samara has." Forts adding, as he smiled broadly, "I did tell
you I would be coming!... Now get rid of your 'boys'"

Navarofski wasn't the only person in the room stunned by Forts' demeanour,
I was too. I stood open mouthed. I had never heard him speak to anyone like
this.

Navarofski couldn't believe it either. "But... Your Highness."

Forts sneered, "I think you will find it is 'Your Imperial Highness,' your
Eminence."

Now totally wrong footed, the Bishop staggered towards us, his dressing
gown falling open again, revealing his naked body underneath.

Seemingly shocked, Forts blurted out, "Bishop, please!" As he stepped
back. Navarofski stopped and hurriedly tried to retie his dressing gown
cord.

The Bishop looked and sounded confused, "Did he just take a photograph?"

He pointed at Samara, who just bowed his head and, with his voice full of
sarcasm, said, "Good afternoon, Bishop." Tapping the camera for good
measure.

"But... but... why?" Navarofski stammered.

Forts again took command, pointing at the three youths, "All of you get
out!"

The three young men scrambled to grab their robes. The Bishop turned to
them, "Edik, not you. Stay with me."

The youth Edik hurried over and stood beside the Bishop in front of
Forts. Forts, still in charge, held out his hand, his Draco Constellation
ring pointing at the two men. "Now show me you know the correct way to
greet your sovereign."

Edik dropped to his knees and took Forts' hand, kissing the ring, and
touching the hand to his head. His voice was humble, "Your Imperial
Highness."

"Stand up." Forts barked.

For a moment, Navarofski and Forts stared at each other. Forts thrust out
his ring hand, "Bishop."

Navarofski scoffed, "You don't expect me to..."

"I demand it!" Forts thrust out his hand again, the silence in the room was
deafening.

"Forts... Please!" The word left my mouth before I could stop them. Forts
glared at me. I bowed my head and stepped back.

Navarofski, glance at each of us now, watching on in turn. Finding no
allies, he tried for sympathy.

"But your Imperial Highness... My knees."

I saw the flash of red as a cushion landed at his feet. I couldn't believe
it, Samara had tossed it to the Bishop.

The Bishop was crushed. He looked round at Edik, through loving eyes,
"Edik, please help me."

He took hold of Edik's arm and got to his knees. He closed his eyes and
then leant forward and kissed Forts' ring.

Forts nodded and stepped forward, taking the Bishop's hand, helped him to
his feet. Navarofski bowed, "Your Imperial Highness, please allow me to
retire to get dressed."

Forts shook his head, "No, I don't have time for that. We will speak as you
are!"

"But?"

Forts waved away his objections. "We speak now, Bishop!"

Forts turned to Edik, his eyes studying the boy. But his words were
addressed to Navarofski. "Firstly, I want to hear that Father Vladimir is
reinstated immediately to his position and that all records of his
dismissal will be destroyed... Then Bishop Navarofski and only then, you
can introduce me to Edik Vassiiliov, the man who will be raising my son
Draco, The Tsarevich, in the safety of Fraser Castle."

Edik gasped and turned to Navarofski, mumbling, "The Tsarevich?"

Forts held Navarofski in his glare. The Bishop again looked at Count Samara
and me.

Then lowered his head, "Yes, Prince Draco is the Tsarevich."

"Louder, Bishop!" Forts snapped at him.

Navarofski visibly swallowed, "The Church in Britain recognises His
Imperial Highness, Draco Drageonivanov Romanov as the rightful Tsarevich."

Edik looked confused. He glanced at Forts, "But that would make him, Tsar."

Navarofski nodded, "Prince Drageon Drageonivanov Romanov, was proclaimed,
Tsar Nicolas III, by your own uncle Helix Vassiiliov."

"My uncle Helix? But when?"

"Enough," Forts barked, "What about Father Vladimir?"

Navarofski steadied himself, "The photograph?"

Forts glowered, "Will no longer exist, when I hear the words..."

Navarofski nodded and bowed his head. "Father Vladimir is reinstated to the
priesthood, with the same rank, position, and privileges he held before."

Forts nodded, "Good, see, that wasn't so difficult, was it, Bishop?"

Navarofski didn't respond.

"Right Bishop, go and get dressed and when you are decent, we will talk
further... Oh, and bring Edik with you."

Navarofski and Edik couldn't get out of the room quickly enough, leaving
the three of us, Samara, Forts and me, all grinning at each other.

Forts waited until the door closed and then grabbed Samara, "You, Count,
are a genius!"

He then hugged me, "Robert, I am sorry for glaring at you... But I thought
you were about to put a spanner in the works." He kissed my cheek, "Am I
forgiven?"

"Yes Forts... Christ, you scared the life out of me!"

Forts was beaming, "It looked like it!... Sorry. The plan was all Count
Samara's... He is a genius." He hugged Samara again.

Forts turned back to me, "Oh Robert, I nearly forgot, can you make a quick
record of the conversation and what the Bishop agreed to before he gets
back?"

We soon found some official headed note paper on one of the desks in the
room, and with Forts and Samara standing over me, each recounting what had
been said, I soon had it all written down.

"Put in our names as witnessing it, too." Samara was really a shrewd
man. The three of us signed our names, and I left a space for the Bishop to
sign it too.

Forts read through it nodding, "Excellent! We have him." I watched Samara
and Forts' faces, both looked very pleased with themselves.

It was then it dawned on me what the two of them had been talking in hushed
tones about earlier at the hotel. I had thought it was about some new
things the Count had purchased for Forts and Davy. I had to laugh to myself
by not telling me, and the Bishop, seeing my genuine shocked reaction to
the way Forts was speaking, the poor man had to believe Forts had lost all
reason.

*

Thankfully, the next meeting was much more civilised. I think this was to
throw the Bishop even more. Forts had turned into the perfect polite
gentleman.

The doors to the sitting room we were in opened and the Bishop entered,
this time he was in his full-dress robes. Edik was beside him in the robes
of a trainee priest.

Forts and Samara both stood and bowed. Forts dropped to his knee and took
hold of the Bishop's hand and kissed his ring.

"Your Eminence."

Count Samara did likewise.

Not being a Russian Orthodox, I just gave a head bow. But in truth my eyes
were on Edik. He was around his mid-twenties, good looking, some would say,
a beautiful young man. He was roughly five foot seven or eight inches
tall. He had short curly light brown hair, which framed his face, high
cheek bones and luscious looking lips. His eyes were the deepest hazel
brown and perfectly framed his little upturned button nose.

Edik caught me watching him, devouring him with my eyes. He blushed and
looked down at the floor. It wasn't hard to see what Bishop Navarofski saw
in him. Forts gave a little cough, I looked up, he was giving me that look,
'I know what you're thinking, you dirty ticket.'

"Shall we all sit?" Navarofski was now sounding much more in command.

Forts nodded, and we all moved over to the couches.

"Edik, can you call for some tea, please?" The Bishop's hand went to pat
Edik's knee, but he obviously had second thoughts and instead it just
hovered, before he placed it back in his lap. Edik smiled and quietly stood
and made his way out of the room.

Forts waited for the door to close, "Tell me about Edik, Bishop. Why should
I trust a Vassiiliov anywhere near my son? You appear to have been prepared
to sacrifice old friends and your relationship with me for him."

Navarofski closed his eyes and seemed to be gathering his thoughts. He
looked up and glanced towards the door. "Edik is my life... I know it is
wrong... but I am prepared to meet my maker and will accept his judgement
when that day comes. You know I loved Vladimir, but I have lost all my
reason with Edik..." He glanced at the door again, "He doesn't know, his
uncle Helix has found out about my infatuation with his nephew and has
threatened..."

Navarofski stopped as the door opened and Edik came smiling back into the
room, pushing a small trolley. He obviously sensed we were all looking at
him, he stopped, "What is it?"

Forts turned back to Navarofski, "Bishop, you have to tell him. No more
secrets..." Forts paused, "He will be safer up at the Castle and Pittodrie
House, but I want him to know why he is there."

The Bishop stood. A tear rolled down his cheek. He nodded to Forts, "May I
have a minute alone with him?"

Forts nodded and gave a reassuring smile. "Certainly... Once you have told
him, both of you, come back to us."

*

The Bishop and Edik came back into the room. Both had been crying. In
silence, they sat opposite us.

Forts reached out and placed a hand on Edik's knee. "We appear to have both
upset your uncle Helix. He threatened to have me killed, too."

Edik looked devastated, the smile from earlier now gone. "I have only met
him once... and that was before the war... in Paris..."

Forts flashed Edik a smile, "So, do you fancy becoming my son's..." Forts
stopped searching for the right word. "Uhmmm, Nanny, isn't right, but you
know what I mean..."

For the first time since returning to the room, Edik gave a coy smile as he
stared into Forts' eyes.

"It would be an honour, Your Imperial Highness."

Forts chuckled, "Right, let's start as we mean to carry on. Call me Forts,
unless we are in an official setting, understand? I hate all that
stuffiness, as these two will tell you." Forts glanced at Samara and me.

He turned back to Edik. "Are you able to travel back with us tomorrow?"

Forts turned to Navarofski, "That will give you another evening together
and of course you can visit him at the Castle anytime."

Edik and Navarofski nodded. Navarofski mouthed, "Thank you."

"So, we will pick you up tomorrow, Edik?"

Edik nodded, "Yes, thank you..."

Forts sat back, his face subtly changing. His smile vanished. "Bishop, I
have had Robert, my legal secretary, write down a record of our earlier
conversation and everything you and I agreed to. I want you to sign it."

Forts handed the paper to the Bishop who was once again wrong-footed by the
sudden change in Fort's demeanour. "Err, can I read it first?"

"Certainly, but I am sure you will see it is an accurate record. Read it
and sign it. I will have Robert keep this copy for safekeeping and have a
copy typed up for you... for your records."

Navarofski bowed his head, "All will be done as we agreed. Can I ask, the
photograph?"

"Will be kept in my safe... For safe keeping... I am sure you
understand..."

Navarofski nodded and sighed.

Samara leant forward and thrust a gilt enamel fountain pen in to the
Bishop's hand. Navarofski bowed his head and with a sigh signed the piece
of paper. He handed it back to Forts, who passed it to me with a subtle
wink.

Forts' smile returned as the Bishop went to hand him back the pen. "Please,
you may keep the pen, Bishop, a gift from me."

Navarofski hadn't paid the pen much attention, but that changed. He
examined it closely, his pudgy fingers running over a small set of
imprinted marks in the gold.

Samara leant forward, "It is one of a kind, made by Faberge for Grand Duke
Michael Alexandrovich, Tsar Nicolas's brother."

Forts was really screwing with the bishop's head. A fountain pen made for a
Romanov, but also getting him to sign the paper with that very
pen. Navarofski looked stunned, "Thank you, I will treasure it."

Forts was now smiling. He nodded and leant forward patting Navarofski's
knee. "I have something else for you as well, Your Eminence."

Samara delved back into the bag he had with him. He brought out what looked
like a silver gilt photograph frame. Samara handed it to Forts, who opened
it and held it out to Navarofski. The bishop gasped, I think I did too. It
was a religious icon; the frame was made by Bolin, one of the Imperial
jewellers. It was of highly decorated silver-gilt set with semi-precious
gems and held a truly beautiful painting of the 'Christ Pantocrator.'

Once more Forts was fucking with the Bishop's head. 'The Christ
Pantocrator' figure represented Christ as a mild but stern, an all-powerful
judge of humanity. A message the Bishop understood the meaning of
immediately.


                       **********************

Folks, I really hope you're enjoying the story. There is nothing more
rewarding than hearing your feedback with observations and
suggestions. Please email me to let me know. Blackscar.

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